Chapter 328
Chapter 328
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Can One Who Has Seen the End of the World Plant an Apple Tree? (33)
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“So.... you’ll be fine going alone?”
“I’m just taking a quick look. I don’t think we should rush in recklessly against them. It looks peaceful, but we have to assume this is enemy territory. I’d appreciate it if Ottman stuck around a bit longer to keep watch.”
“Hmm. Well.... if I went down there and you stayed up top....”
“Don’t even dream of it. You’d just sink straight down muttering, ‘Ooh, water....’ and flopping around like a jellyfish.”
“....Can’t deny that. So, when do you plan to come back? How long can you hold your breath?”
“Uh.... roughly speaking, not more than about 12 hours? Thinking about it, this is the first time I’ve been in the water this long since that well-diving stunt back in the day.”
“Twelve hours. ‘Only’ half a day....”
“Kinda.... underwhelming, huh?”
“Underwhelming? My dear Professor, you’ve always steered clear of the magical side of things compared to our Lead Flow school.... but a water mage on the cusp of the third circle gasping for air after a mere half-day submersion? It’s because that rock-hard notion of ‘humans need to breathe to live’ is still lodged in your brain. Hmm.... don’t go around calling yourself my disciple if you meet other water mages.”
Floating on the surface next to the Dry Oasis like a watermelon, Ottman clicked his tongue at the Professor’s words. Even among fourth-circle mages, the truly skilled ones built homes on riverbeds or pond bottoms and lived there. And yet, a mere half day?
Ottman sighed, realizing he’d been too lax in his disciple’s magical training despite considering him a student of sorts.
“You’re only using your magic as a physical aid now?”
“Yeah. Back when I was rampaging in the border fortress, the Blood Armor fully integrated with my body, making it way too efficient.”
The Blood Armor was already woven densely between the Professor’s bones and muscles, active at all times like a part of his body.
A simple yet efficient structure that deflected impacts outward from the body. It was the perfect means to escape the curse of his “Glass Body,” which rendered him unfit for combat.
However.... even with its efficiency, it couldn’t deflect 100% of damage, so every hit drained mana from the Blood Armor.
Think of it like overlaying a mana gauge over a health gauge as a shield. When the mana ran out, the Blood Armor deactivated, reverting him to his fragile Glass Body state.
Given that, it was more efficient to tank a hit with that mana and close in for a beatdown than to craft and cast a spell. Hence, he’d been neglecting his magic.
“What can you do? You’re always so busy with construction work that you’ve had no time for magical training.”
“Ugh.... fair enough. If you need help or run out of strength down there, contact me anytime. Message spells will reach no matter the distance here. I’ll stick around the ship and keep an eye on the water nearby. Seems like it’s still leaking from the hasty repairs. The crew’s too scared to climb onto that wreck like the log says, so we can’t do that either.”
“Please take care of it.”
Splash-!
Like a pair of merfolk chatting while bobbing on the waves, the Professor and Ottman sank beneath the surface. Ottman to the ship’s underside, the Professor toward the deep sea’s heart.
Gurgle-
‘Definitely feels unfamiliar diving into serious magic after so long.’
Assuming this was enemy territory, caution in movement was a given.
This was the ocean depths. No terrain for cover or concealment, surrounded by sea life where distinguishing mutant-spawned creatures from normal fish was impossible.
‘They probably set up surveillance around here knowing our ship would crash.’
But what the enemy overlooked was that their surveillance target was a submerged water mage.
Gurgle-
As a school of timid small fish darted past without him so much as twitching, the Professor’s lips curled into a smirk.
‘A water mage is one with the water.’
Long ago, captured in a mage’s lab in Turan. Amid Roman’s “kind” teachings during the infamous “drowning drills,” that phrase had been drilled into him.
『Hahahahahaha! Don’t resist—embrace it! Like a baby in its mother’s womb! You are the water soon! A water mage is one with the water! Feel it with your body, not your head! Hahahaha!』
Back then, he’d just thought, ‘This psycho is dead set on killing me.’ But now, as a mage himself, he knew it was pure advice from a “mage’s perspective.”
Even Ottman and the other water mages avoided anything not born of water in their bodies, claiming it disrupted their focus. They stuck to fish, seaweed, and the like.
A water mage is water. Meaning the existential boundary between his body and the sea was razor-thin. Just as you couldn’t pick out a cup of water poured into the ocean, the Professor’s presence, submerged, had blended seamlessly, becoming hazy.
And his swimming speed? Stealthy enough that even small fish wouldn’t notice, yet fast as a torpedo or swordfish.
His sturdy legs played a part, of course. The same legs that shattered gunships with a single leap dominated water propulsion.
But kicking wildly like that would leave a long trail of white foam visible from a kilometer away.
Enter the mage’s “water dominion.”
Shrrr-
His body slipped through water stripped of resistance, like seeping into it. No splashing, no foam—just perfect silent mode.
Finding a water mage in the water was impossible without being a water mage yourself or possessing water-related abilities. No one was better suited for stealth infiltration of submerged facilities. Especially if that mage was once the ace guerrilla of a legendary battlefield unit.
‘This is knowledge only a mage—or someone taught by one—would know. Trivial, scattered bits you’d never need. Even possessing and rummaging through a mage’s memories, you wouldn’t easily uncover something like [You can’t detect a water mage in water] without deliberately seeking it.’
Bazur, the mutants’ sole magical expert, was dead. Palkatus could only seek advice from dominated mages in their grasp, who couldn’t respond actively. Extracting knowledge from them was like finding one book in the vast library of a mage’s lifetime knowledge.
‘We’ve been too rigid and textbook in assaulting the mutants so far. We neutralized their magical forces in combat but never exploited the gap.’
Gurgle-
As the Professor sank endlessly into the depths, thoughts of Palkatus and their preparations—what they knew, what they didn’t—interwove in his mind.
The enemy learned fast and adapted quickly. No trick worked twice.
The gap from their magical ignorance would vanish seamlessly next time after this.
‘So.... I have to strike deep, leave irreparable damage.’
Just as Bazur’s death created this gap. Inflict massive damage to chain into another.
That alone would surpass an enemy thinking at his level.
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Gurgle-
‘Starting to come into view now.’
[That, that one. And.... that too? Mutants? Disgustingly huge.]
‘Probably.’
[Damn it. Was hoping not.]
‘Me too.’
Unlike typical deep seas growing darker, this one emitted brighter light the deeper it went.
Amid the rippling glow, the things he sought began appearing one by one.
First, at the deep sea’s center. A sunken moon encircled by massive coral reefs, emitting light.
Hidden artfully within those coral groves: Chamber Maids.
[Let’s see. One, two, three.... Over eight visible already?]
‘No reason to cluster them, so with the unseen spots, at least twenty. No wonder mutant production’s delayed.’
Chamber Maids concealed slyly amid the beautiful coral forest.
Unlike the land versions with thorny vines, these transparent, jellyfish-like bodies seemed specialized for sea ops.
Twenty Chamber Maids was northern frontline queen-nest levels. Normally, they planted 3-4 per region to drain life force.
To root all twenty as production units, they’d consumed all absorbed nutrients. Naturally, no mutants produced in the interim.
Escort forces couldn’t bring land troops—they’d drown—so they’d crafted new aquatic-based mutants. Hence no major forces yet. Had to make them one by one on land and tunnel-worm them over.
‘Let’s see.... three active Chamber Maid nests. The rest still settling....’
[Ah, there! New one emerging!]
‘....That tuna-lookalike confirms some of those sea fish around the ship were their scouts.’
Palkatus had already pinpointed their group and ship, under real-time watch.
‘Enemy production confirmed first. Prime strike target.’
They’d entrenched here. Give them time, and they’d flood the sea with forces using its infinite life force. An impregnable base under the impenetrable sand sea.
Another oddity: structures floating buoy-like above the coral layer.
Their nature was obvious at a glance.
‘Houses?’
[Yeah. Like those up top.]
Shipwreck fragments. Sandstone homes. Even thick tents unlikely to sink here.
Miscellaneous structures orbited the moon-ringed coral like satellites.
Wrecks. Tents. Even desert dwellers’ sandstone huts.
Neither fully sunk nor afloat, bobbing like buoys around the moon. Like satellites encircling it.
‘Sunk.... or floating?’
[Neutral buoyancy? Nah, doesn’t feel physical.]
‘If they could sink, all the surface wrecks would be down too. But heavier ones float up top. Some sink, some don’t.... Like the sea’s picky.’
As if the moon selectively drew things into its embrace.
Quicksand-spilled sand magically returned to the ceiling’s sand sea. Quicksand-swallowed wrecks and homes bobbed on the surface for centuries, while select bits orbited the moon half-sunk.
Lost in thought, his body sank relentlessly. Chamber Maids’ features now visible to the naked eye, mutant density rising.
Gurgle-
‘....! Ngh! Mmff!’
[Don’t even squeak! Cover your mouth!]
Creatures brushing past were uniformly menacing. Purely combative sea life: multi-layered razor teeth, glowing green along eel bodies....
A dozens-eyed monkfish grazed his nose—he barely stifled a scream.
‘Caught here.... I’m done?’
[Run full tilt, maybe upper body hits surface.]
Deeper meant higher-grade specimens. Even fully assimilated as a water mage, detection risk rose.
Gurgle- Thud.
‘Landed!’
Heart pounding from the dive, the Professor burrowed into one floating house near the moon like infantry into a bunker mid-bombing.
....Crunch.
Breaking coral blocking the door, he entered. Sea fish nibbling moss fled through tiny windows in fright.
Desert sandstone home fragment. Sparse furnishings.
‘Whew, heart was racing....’
[No heart rate control, that noise would’ve given us away. Anyway, what’s this place?]
‘....Just a house?’
Unlike surface houses and wrecks, he’d hoped something special moon-side. Nope, just a house.
Same with a few more at similar depths: houses, tents.
Moss-, algae-, barnacle-covered houses. Tents. Wreck cabins. And,
‘Oh, this....’
[What?]
A house, but with standout features.
‘....Etched with a dagger.’
[Not casual. Walls, ceiling.... floor too, packed tight.]
Fourth sunken house visited, sneaking past sea mutants.
Unlike others, meticulously maintained interior.
Thus, the densely etched script on sandstone walls, ceiling, floor stood out vividly.
[Let’s see.... Memories, memories.... Ah, there! From that hero conference in Lordric capital. Script on the Saintess of Abundance’s hem.]
‘Abundance’s holy script. Then.... this is?’
[High chance. Log said the Abundance priest used every means possible.]
Log entry: priest gathered converted sailors for prayer. Coral sizes and erosion matched log timeline roughly.
‘So, swallowed priest and followers, and even their homes into its embrace....’
Reason for holy things obvious. Fallen god, hoarding any divinity to recover. Clerics, followers, relics—anything with a trace.
‘But.... Abundance’s divinity wouldn’t dwell like this?’
For Abundance cult, temples were vast fields or fertile soil. No divine power from frantic wall-scrawling. Just a priest’s desperate act.
Yet the sunken moon selectively pulled this non-divine house into its bosom.
‘....Hide. Recall other sunken houses in order.’
[On it.]
Shrrr-
Passing tents and houses replayed; suspicion hardened to certainty. Amid rippling shadows, unusually clean spots scattered.
As if only those maintained amid algae, coral, moss: traces of something kept pristine.
‘Altar top, circular indentation. Typical for ritual vessels or icons.’
‘Bed top. Obvious—human slept there.’
‘This.... feather shape? Ah, quill and ink! Rectangular empty spot beside: book. Scripture copying, probably.’
Icons, vessels’ spots; holy traces; copied scripture; even quill and ink for copying.
‘Not even idol merch collectors go this hard....’
Not collecting divinity itself, but anything divinity-adjacent.
‘Come to think, non-divine stuff yanked too.’
Not just clerics—even prayer-side bystanders tabooed. Not divinity itself, but all tangentially related.
Something. Something....
‘....Obsession?’
[Ah, yes! That slimy, creepy vibe. That’s it!]
‘Obsession.... If not capturing divine beings for innate power....’
Gurgle-
Sunken moon obsessed with “holiness” keyword itself.
Not once-holy being; devouring all holiness-related, ignorant of it—like reverse.
‘Never.... a god to begin with?’
Then: despite vast power, failed to become god. If not god, the power holding this sea, birthing desert....
‘World Tree. Same kind as World Tree, different entity. Granted power! Not born in-world—bestowed by someone!’
Power granted from start to preordained god-aspect. Genesis god. Tool aiding world creation.
But sun and moon culled by dragons’ “self-correction.” Lacked something for World Tree rank.
Surviving moon collected all holiness-related....
Crack!
‘....Huh?’
Sharp pain snapped reverie.
Sawtooth teeth piercing his instep.
Crunch! Crumble!
Dozens more teeth burst through ceiling and floor; house disintegrating.
‘C-caught!’
[Too long here! Stationary drew notice!]
Squelch-!
Crunch!
Regaining wits, Professor yanked free as jaws devoured his former spot.
The beast summoned by Nullak from sand sea.
Slightly smaller—half dragon-size—stared with huge eyes, chomping the massive sandstone house.
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